A place where I have never been,
ancient stone castles stand
and cattle roam the rolling hills
of this blessed fertile land.

She’s ever present in my dreams,
the beckoning voice I hear,
that whispers though the pounding surf
though a heartbeat in my ear.

I only know this restlessness
would ne’er again haunt me,
could I stand upon the high cliffs
which face the Celtic Sea.

I know I’d weep just once to see
the lakes of Killarney gleam;
to delight in Erin’s wonders
and her forty shades of green.

The ravages of bygone wars -
such tales have long remained.
People of spirit, pride and grace,
healed a land usurped and strained.

If dreams are all I’m meant to have
then content I’ll have to be,
knowing somewhere in the past,
Ireland was the breath of me.